


Taj Mahal

by MechBull



Series: Bucket Lists [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 22:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11300154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: His eyes narrowed slightly, and Jemma smiled wider to cover up the hesitation in her voice. No one here knew her. She could be anyone she wanted to be. She could be the type of woman who picked up a strange man in a hotel bar. Or let herself get picked up. Semantics. Regardless, it probably wasn’t a good idea to share too many personal details with a total stranger, given her line of work.No matter how handsome he was.





	Taj Mahal

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilery notes at the end.

Jemma took a small sip from her drink, fought a grimace at the burn of alcohol, and then looked around the dimly lit hotel bar. She wasn’t normally one for hard liquor, but it seemed appropriate to treat herself after a long day. She felt somewhat overdressed, though, and she tugged at the hem of her dress where it had ridden up her thigh. 

There were only a few people in the room, and Jemma amused herself by trying to figure out their life stories. She wondered what they thought of her, if anything. She suspected “scientist for a secret government agency” was not their first guess. 

“Anyone sitting here?”

Jemma looked over in surprise. She had been so distracted she hadn’t even noticed someone approaching. The man seemed a bit nervous, and as mean as it made her feel, she almost sent him packing. She wasn’t really looking to be hit on that evening. But there was something about him – maybe it was his shy smile, or his accent that was close enough to remind her of home, or his five o’clock shadow, or his loose tie and unbuttoned collar. Whatever it was, Jemma smiled and indicated the seat next to her with a nod. 

He climbed onto the stool, and then seemed at a loss. Jemma bit her lip to stop her grin. He had made the first move, so she supposed she could make the next one.

“Not from around here then?”

His eyebrows rose in happy surprise as he registered her accent. “Neither are you.”

“Well…we are in a hotel,” she pointed out with a small laugh. “Probably no one in here is from around here.”

“Fair enough,” he allowed. He held out a hand. “I’m Fitz.”

She took his hand, shaking it and holding on probably longer than she needed to. “Je – nna.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, and Jemma smiled wider to cover up the hesitation in her voice. No one here knew her. She could be anyone she wanted to be. She could be the type of woman who picked up a strange man in a hotel bar. Or let herself get picked up. Semantics. Regardless, it probably wasn’t a good idea to share too many personal details with a total stranger, given her line of work.

No matter how handsome he was. 

“Buy you a drink, Jenna?” he finally asked. 

She looked at her glass. It had a swallow or two left, but considering how heavy a hand the bartender had when he poured that one, she wasn’t sure another one would be wise. Jemma shrugged, downed her drink, and then placed the glass on the bar.

“Why not?” she confirmed.

The man – Fitz – looked at her for one more second. Then he turned and caught the bartender’s attention. He held up two fingers, then gestured at her empty glass. And then he turned back to Jemma. She leaned closer, shifting on her stool slightly, trying to maintain her balance without uncrossing her legs. But she accomplished her goal, if somewhat clumsily. If Fitz noticed her foot was now hooked under his calf, he didn’t say anything.

From his blush, however, she knew he noticed. 

“So, ah, what are you doing in town?” he asked. 

Jemma thought for a moment. “I’m a lobbyist,” she finally claimed. “I’m meeting with members of Congress about funding for scientific research.” Perfect. Something she could fake a little knowledge about, but not something that seemed too far-fetched. And nothing that would reveal who she really was. 

“Oh, the vaccines bill in the House?”

“You know it?”

“Nah,” he said, laughing. “Just a little from the news. I was hoping to sound smart.”

Jemma laughed, trying to give it a twinkling sound to show how funny she thought he was. She was pretty sure men liked that. 

“Do you want it to pass or not?” he asked. 

“Oh, pass, of course. I’m passionate about medical research.”

He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Who isn’t?”

The bartender appeared then, dropping their drinks off. They were both distracted as they responded that they didn’t want anything else at the moment and pulled their drinks closer. Fitz lifted his glass towards her, and she reached out to clink her own against it before taking a small sip. This one was even stronger than the last, and she tried not to cough.

Fitz had less luck. His voice was strained when he finally managed to ask, “Good God, what’s in that?”

“Alcohol and not much else,” Jemma replied, snickering. 

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head lightly before taking another cautious sip. 

Jemma almost warned him against drinking too much. Didn’t want him to – well, she had plans. Instead, she put her glass down and twisted to face him again. Resting an elbow on the surface of the bar, she reached down and began to slowly trace one finger around the rim of the glass. Fitz watched her for a moment and then made eye contact again.

“And what do you do, Fitz?”

“I’m, ah, I’m in – I run a small start-up. Working on getting a couple patents.”

Jemma hummed in interest. “Next big thing?”

Fitz knocked on the wood of the bar. 

“What are you getting patents for?”

“That’s proprietary information,” he replied, shooting her a teasing smile as he took another drink. 

Jemma fought the urge to kiss that smirk right off his face. There’d be time enough for that later. Instead, she rolled her eyes as if to imply he didn’t impress or amuse her. She reached out for her glass and drank some of her own cocktail. 

“Where are you from, then?” Fitz asked, once she put her glass down. 

She faced him again. “Well, Sheffield originally.” She smiled as he nodded and rolled his hand to encourage her to continue. “Now, Maryland.”

“Not too far away, then.”

“No. You?”

“Chicago.”

“The Windy City.”

“Indeed.”

Jemma smiled widely, waiting until he glanced at her lips again. She wondered who exactly was picking up whom here. She decided it didn’t really matter. She scooched a little closer, still careful not to fall off her seat. That wouldn’t be very attractive. Not compared to what she did next, at any rate, which was lean forward enough to place her free hand lightly on his thigh. 

His eyebrows raised and he looked down, before meeting her gaze again. She searched for something to say. Small talk was hard enough without trying to be flirtatious. Her heart was pounding wildly. This was so unlike her, but she just tried to remind herself that tonight, she wasn’t her. She was Jenna, the high-powered political lobbyist, and she certainly wasn’t intimidated by the thought of seducing a strange man up to her hotel room. 

She opened her mouth to say something – anything – and then…his mobile rang. Jemma’s heart sank in disappointment. He moved quickly, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling it out. He stared at the screen for a second, torn, and then answered it. With an apologetic glance, he turned away from Jemma and spoke quietly. She hesitated briefly, and then she moved. She wasn’t going to waste any more time. She opened her purse, pulling out a pen. She wrote her room number on a napkin and slid it under his glass. He didn’t even notice her stand up and leave. 

She just hoped the person on the other end of the call didn’t ruin her night. 

She made it up to her room and quickly brushed her teeth and went to the bathroom. She was drying her hands when there was a knock on the door. Jemma smiled, checked her appearance, and then went to answer it. 

Fitz was looking nervous again, but he smiled at her. Movement drew her attention down to where his hand fidgeted restlessly next to his thigh. 

“Finish your phone call?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, sorry. That was my partner.”

“Your partner?” she asked, raising one eyebrow.

He looked alarmed. “My work partner,” he answered quickly. “Not – I’m not – _work_.”

Jemma giggled. “It’s OK. I know what you meant. You don’t need to head back to Chicago, do you?”

He shook his head. “No, they don’t need me.”

“Well. That’s a relief.”

And then she reached out, grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him into the room. To his credit, he only squawked briefly before regaining control of himself. He moved out of the way so Jemma could push the door closed, and then he wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her tight to his body, capturing her in a kiss she could feel all the way down to her toes. Jemma gasped against his lips, then buried her hands in his hair and deepened the kiss. 

They stumbled their way blindly to the bed, things turning frantic fast. Jemma nearly tripped over her own feet, and she paused to kick off her heels. Fitz scrunched the fabric of her dress in his hands before reaching up and tugging the zip. It caught twice, two heart-stopping moments where she was afraid it would tear, or worse, she’d be stuck in it. And then it was open completely, the dress now loose enough to push down over her hips and let it pool onto the floor.

Fitz broke away, looking down at her body and admiring the lacy bra and knickers. He cursed softly, and Jemma thanked every deity she could think of that she’d actually worn matching, not to mention sexy, ones that day. And then she dropped to sit on the bed. She reached out, working determinedly on his belt. It took Fitz a moment to catch up, and then he was yanking off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Do you have a condom?” she asked breathlessly. “Please tell me you have a – ”

“Uh…yes. Yes!”

He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet just in time as Jemma pushed down his trousers. She noted the bulge of his cock just before she reached for the waistband of his boxers. As soon as she had those off too, she placed her hands on his hips and pulled. 

He threw his wallet over his shoulder, and she heard it thunk on the ground even as he hooked his hands under her armpits and repositioned her on the bed so she was on it properly. He knelt, accidentally scratching her with the corner of the condom wrapper as he let her go. She watched hungrily as he opened it, then rolled the sheath on. And then she shook herself back to awareness, and moved to strip her knickers off as quickly as she could. 

As he lowered himself on top of her, she let out a shaky breath, lifting up to kiss him again and wrapping one leg around his hip. He moved as if he were going to enter her, and Jemma pushed at his shoulder suddenly, unexpectedly keeping him away.

“I don’t – I don’t normally do this,” she felt compelled to say. It felt perhaps prudish, like she was judging other women who might, like she was trying to – but she wanted him to know it. She wanted him to know there was something special about him.

“Me neither,” he whispered. 

“Oh,” she replied dumbly, and then he was kissing her again.

She groaned as he pushed into her, and she rocked up to meet him. For all their urgency before, they moved…well, not _slowly_ but with a certain level of sensuality, as if determined to enjoy their time together. Jemma stroked her hands up and down his back, breathing harshly through her nose. 

It was magnificent, but it wasn’t enough. She pushed his shoulder again, this time to turn him to his back. They separated briefly, and both whimpered in need. She climbed to her knees, straddling him and lowering herself onto his cock. 

“Yes,” Fitz breathed out, sliding one hand around her waist and the other up to fondle her breast through her bra. 

Jemma sighed, tilting her head back as she rotated her hips. This was quite possibly the best sex she’d ever had, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t just the alcohol or even the porn-movie-like circumstances talking. 

Fitz sat up then, burying his face in her cleavage. He moved both hands to her back, sliding them under the strap of her bra but making no move to unhook it. Jemma moaned, tilting her hips slightly to grind her clit more firmly against him. She wasn’t going to last; she was almost – 

“Oh, ffff – ” she managed, just as her orgasm hit and she lost the power of speech altogether. 

Fitz lifted her, moving with what seemed like inhuman strength as he maneuvered them both. He knelt, pushing her forward until she fell back onto the mattress, her head now at the foot of the bed. And then he propped himself on his hands, pressing his hips down into her as he thrust again and again, harder than before. Jemma clung to him, unable to stop her high-pitched, greedy wails of lust. She came again, even as he shouted out with his own release. 

Fitz dropped down, shifting to the side so he didn’t land on her. He slipped out of her with the movement, and Jemma moaned at the sensation. They both were breathing incredibly fast.

“Wow,” Fitz finally said. 

Jemma laughed in stunned agreement.

“I am really glad I met you, Jenna,” Fitz said, teasing yet still sincere.

It took her a moment to remember that was supposed to be her name. She almost felt guilty, and then she reminded herself that it was a one-night stand. No matter how good the sex was. 

“Likewise,” she said, not quite able to look at him.

With a groan, Fitz sat up, hunching over to take care of the condom.

“You can – you could stay a while,” Jemma offered. 

He twisted to look at her, clearly more than a little tempted. “I only…had the one condom,” he finally said.

Jemma shrugged. “We can probably think of other things we can do.”

Fitz stared at her for a long beat, then he smiled. “OK.”

**

The sun was barely peeking through the curtains when Jemma slipped out of bed as quietly as possible. She really didn’t want to wake Fitz up any earlier than she had to, and honestly she was wondering if she _had_ to, at all. She wasn’t very knowledgeable about meaningless sex etiquette, and at any rate, she was kind of worried she would find it difficult to say goodbye after all. And so she crept into the bathroom. She turned on the water at just a trickle, placing a washcloth underneath to soak it. She moved quickly, scrubbing her body and paying extra attention to her crotch where she hadn’t been as conscientious as she probably should have been the night before after they finally exhausted themselves. She ran clawed fingers through her hair, grimacing that she couldn’t take a real shower. She didn’t want to risk it though. She would even wait to go to the bathroom in the lobby, so the toilet flush didn’t wake him.

Jemma silently tiptoed back to the main room, picking up each piece of her clothing as she came to it. She hooked her bra on first, then balanced on one foot at a time as she pulled her knickers on, then her dress. She just needed her shoes and purse now. Jemma looked around the room, trying to find – 

“Good morning.”

His voice was low and rough from sleep, but it still made her jump about a foot. She placed a hand on her chest, felt her heart beating wildly, and then looked over to him. He was stretching on the bed, almost cat-like, and he gave her a wide, lazy smile.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” he asked, somewhat knowing.

“I was going to wake you,” Jemma maybe-lied. 

Fitz propped himself up on his elbows. Jemma tried not to stare at the love bites she’d left all over his chest. Judging by his even wider grin, she hadn’t been successful. 

“Do you want breakfast?”

She didn’t know if he meant that literally or as a euphemism. Either way, Jemma couldn’t risk it, or she might never leave. Instead, she walked over to the bed and sat down as close as she dared. 

“I have to go,” she said apologetically.

Fitz nodded in understanding. And then he shifted his weight to one hand, reaching the other behind her neck and pulling her into a kiss. 

“Last night was amazing,” he whispered once they’d finished. 

“You’re telling me,” she murmured. A moment later, she blinked, bringing herself back to reality, and stood. Looking around the room again, she spotted her shoes and purse. She walked across the room to grab them, turning to look at Fitz one last time as she slipped her shoes on. “Check-out’s 11, if you want to use the shower.”

“Mm-kay.”

Jemma sighed. “Goodbye, Fitz.”

“Goodbye. Jenna.”

She looked at him for one more second, wondering – she turned quickly, and walked out the door without a backwards glance.

**

Jemma stood in front of the mirror as she brushed her hair. The first thing she did when she got back to the base from her Walk of Absolutely No Shame Whatsoever was take a shower. Now, she wanted breakfast, but she figured she’d wait until – the door to the bedroom opened and Jemma smiled. She watched as Fitz stepped inside and closed the door again. He looked exhausted, even after – she suspected – sleeping a bit more and taking a long shower in the hotel room.

He finally looked up, offering her a small smile. Jemma grinned back, and he walked closer. Wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, Fitz bent down to kiss her bare, still slightly damp shoulder. 

“Last night was amazing,” he murmured, repeating himself from earlier. 

“Told you,” Jemma teased, tilting her head to the side to allow him room to continue kissing her neck. She lifted one hand and buried it in his hair. 

“You’ve gotten incredibly good at going undercover,” he said, before snickering at his own unintentional innuendo and adding, “You know what I mean.”

Jemma smiled, both at his comment and the way his hand slipped through the gap of the towel she had wrapped around herself, seeking out and finding her naked flesh. 

“You should see the dossier I made on Jenna,” she told him.

Fitz chuckled, pulling her closer as he continued to kiss her just below her ear.

“Was it everything you wanted?” he asked, voice muffled by her skin. 

“Mmm, yes. Another item on the bucket list checked off.”

Fitz snorted. “See the Taj Mahal. Have a one-night stand with a stranger in a bar.”

Jemma smirked, turning around in his arms and wrapping her own around his neck. She leaned forward to kiss him again, but only briefly. She pulled away and fixed him with a stare.

“Now your turn. You promised you’d tell me.”

“Jemma,” he whined, blushing. 

She slid one hand down his chest to rest over his heart. “It’s OK,” she said. “You don’t _have_ to. But there’s very little I’d say no to, when it comes to you.” 

He buried his face against her neck so she couldn’t see his expression. She could barely hear him either, when he finally responded.

“It’s not just you who would need to say yes.”

Jemma was…surprised. “Do you want to have a threesome?” she asked, trying to mask her incredulity.

“No!” he exclaimed, backing away. His eyes were wide and his expression guileless, so apparently she had misunderstood. “I don’t want – no. I…I…Just…”

“Spit it out.”

“I mean, I just wouldn’t mind…watching you… _makeoutwithDaisy_.” 

The last part was rushed and quiet and Jemma wasn’t entirely sure she heard him. And then she burst into laughter. Fitz backed away, offended and embarrassed, so she reached out quickly before he could get too far from her.

“Sorry. Sorry, I – sorry. I just forget sometimes you’re a man.”

He was even more affronted, and he spluttered something about how he thought the previous evening would have more than clearly demonstrated that. Jemma tried her hardest, but could not stop laughing. Finally, she pulled him closer, shutting them both up with a kiss.

“I’ll _ask_ her,” she promised. 

After the previous night, it was the least she could do. And besides, Daisy’s face would no doubt be priceless.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this was “confessing a fetish.” I went with more of a fantasy than a fetish, but I don’t think anyone’s going to complain!


End file.
